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“Tripp,” Bishop says, spotting him walk in. “You’re assigned security detail for the girls. Go with them wherever they go.”
“Now?”
“No, tomorrow, asshole. The fuck are you thinking?”
Bishop is a patched member, while Tripp is only a prospect. He doesn’t get to question his orders. Tripp looks over to me, his eyes roaming my body. On second thought, I trust Davina and Sloan more than I trust him.
“If it’ll make you happy,” Sloan concedes, then turns to Tripp. “Stay out of our damn way, and we’ll be good.”
He nods, following us outside. We get into Davina’s car while Tripp gets on his bike. I debate telling them what Tripp saw. It could’ve been an accident. He walked in, not knowing what we were doing on the bar. Doesn’t mean he stayed to watch. Still, that smirk he gave me told me he enjoyed the show.
25
Munsey
Mason watches the security footage for a third time. He sees the same thing we did. She went inside but didn’t come back out. There’s no footage of her leaving, so we have no idea who picked her up.
“And Taylor confirmed this is her mother?”
“Yes, sir. I believe she works for The Harvester. Or maybe she is The Harvester. Can Owen confirm this is the woman who was at his clubhouse?”
We know Sloan overheard him talking to a woman. She says it’s the same woman who participated in holding her captive. She was shocked that a female would do such a despicable thing.
“I’ll talk to him.”
“There has to be some sort of connection. It can’t be random that our clubhouse was attacked shortly after her old man was killed.”
“Retaliation for his death doesn’t necessarily mean it was orchestrated by The Harvester,” Mason points out.
“It makes sense, though. We know what those two were up to with Taylor. Why wouldn’t they be involved in trafficking?”
“Taylor never mentioned any other girls being present in the home. Could just be coincidence.”
I understand what he’s saying. Her mom and stepdad could just be small-town pieces of shit. There may not be a connection to The Harvester at all. I hate to ask Taylor about her past, but we need to know if there were other girls there.
I’m about to tell Mason I’ll talk with her when the door opens, and she walks in with Sloan, Davina, and Tripp. She spots me and instantly smiles, walking over. When she leans in to kiss me, I turn my head, causing her lips to brush against my cheek. It’s an asshole move, but I don’t know that I’m quite ready to tell everyone what’s going on between us.
The disappointment on her face is evident, but I’ll address it later. Right now, I want to know about her mom and whether or not there were other girls in the house with her.
“I need to talk to you,” I say, grabbing her arm and leading her to her bedroom.
“You know, I don’t get you. You fuck me right out there on that bar, but you can’t kiss me? If you think this is some booty call bullshit, you can forget it.”
“I don’t think you’re a booty call.”
“Then you should’ve kissed me!” she yells, and I snatch her to me, crashing my mouth down on hers.
She yields with a moan, wrapping her arms around my shoulders. Yeah, I should’ve kissed her. Shouldn’t have cared who was watching. Taylor Cross has me. I don’t know how else to describe it. I fucking belong to her.
We stumble back to her bed, and I push her legs apart, hiking her dress up. Within minutes, I’m seated deep inside her. Yeah, I fucking belong to her. And she belongs to me.
26
Taylor
Christian climbs out of the bed and starts getting dressed. His burn scars cover the majority of his torso and back. Funny, when my hands are touching him, I don’t even feel them.
“You feel better now? Over your hissy fit?” he asks with a knowing smirk.
